


horseshoes and hand grenades

by exbex



Series: I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends [17]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Public Relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: Riley reflects on risks and the proverbial dodging of the proverbial bullet.
Relationships: Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642447
Kudos: 3





	horseshoes and hand grenades

**Author's Note:**

> This fic mentions, but does not describe, past sexual violence.

_The Power Move_

Madeleine was furious. “How could you write this without consulting me?” She reminded Riley of Foxy, one of Maxwell’s recently rescued corgis-petite, blonde, pretty, and full of attitude. Granted, Madeleine didn’t have to be angry to remind Riley of Foxy, and vice versa.

Riley considered. Sarcastically reminding Madeleine that someone at the fertility clinic had leaked Riley’s records to some of the trashier rags in Cordonia would be amusing for about fourteen seconds. Calmly answering the question could have the same effect on Madeleine, but at least it would be taking the high road.

“It’s a power move. Social media and gossip rags don’t get to slut shame me because I have scarring from pelvic inflammatory disease. Hence, I revealed how I got pelvic inflammatory disease. If I had just left it at explaining that I was the victim of a rape, I would have had to deal with victim-blaming. Now, revealing that I was drugged would have led to assumptions that I had committed the unforgivable offense of going to a party or taking my eyes off of my beverage for twelve seconds, hence, I went into the entire story of how I trusted someone I was acquainted with who offered me shelter and a hot meal when I was homeless. But then of course I had to explain why I was homeless in the first place, because being poor is also apparently a moral failing. And I had to wrap things up by explaining that slut-shaming is a hypocritical policing of women, and I don’t need to be ashamed of being a rape victim because I’m the victim, not the perpetrator.” Riley glanced down at her phone. “Three trending hashtags, and an uptick in my approval ratings. A power move. One that paid off. I know, you’re mad I didn’t consult you, queen of power moves with the press and Royal Communications Director.” Riley paused. “I assumed that you wouldn’t approve. And sometimes I ask forgiveness rather than permission.”

Madeleine stared at Riley, her mouth drawn in a firm line. “You like to gamble.”

“Only a little.” Riley held her gaze.

Something changed in Madeleine’s eyes. “I hope it doesn’t cost you everything.”

_The Rookie Mistake_

Riley stared after Madeleine’s retreating form. Her parting words had unnerved Riley. 

There was, after all, a fine line between fearlessness and foolishness. She stared at the band on her left ring finger. 

_“I don’t know if I can write these vows.” Riley stared at a legal pad. She had Maxwell’s name written down with a comma after it. She couldn’t help but wonder if she should have engaged with a comma weeks ago, when, in the wake of an adrenaline-infused evening, Maxwell dropped to one knee and presented her with a ring made of twigs._

_Maxwell looked up from where he was reclining on the bed. “I mean, there’s the traditional ones, but I figured you weren’t the traditional type.”_

_“Well…I don’t know if I can make the types of promises that are inherent in vows. The whole, till death do us part promise is bold. Ambitious. No, ambitious on steroids.” Riley inhaled and continued before he could look like he’d been struck. “I know Liam gave me this position and this estate, but I can’t help but think of it as a job. I don’t take on jobs I can’t quit.”_

_Maxwell looked at her calmly. “You’re asking if I’ll be willing to follow you if you want to give up your title at some point.”_

_“I can’t ask you to do that. But yes, it could happen. I insisted on dual citizenship. That’s not just homeland loyalty; that is strategy.”_

_Maxwell sat up and slid off the bed. He walked over to Riley and put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t need to be a duke, or a lord, to be Cordonian, or a Beaumont.”_

Riley sighed and poured herself some scotch. Wise words that seemed to have sailed away the moment Liam had asked them to provide an heir. But she and Maxwell had talked it out and learned their lesson and now they were on course, two phoenixes who had been through one rebirth already. Forged in fire indeed.

_Rookie Mistake Number Two_

“Well fuck me.”

Hana looked up from the other side of the study. “Riley?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

Riley didn’t register Hana’s voice right away. She’d been intently studying Cordonian law, the ones that had fallen by the wayside during her CIA training, her mission, receiving her burn notice, going on a wild goose chase to clear her name, dealing with terrorists, getting married, and trying, and failing, to get pregnant.

Rookie. Fucking. Mistake.

“Riley?” Hana’s voice finally permeated Riley’s ruminating. 

Riley looked up. “Sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

Riley locked eyes with her. Hana was one of her best friends. Aside from Maxwell and Logan, she was closer to Riley than anyone else on the planet.

“I, ah, hadn’t realized that allowing Liam to appoint Maxwell’s and my hypothetical child to the Crown would mean that Maxwell and I wouldn’t be able to renege on that particular promise.”

Hana nodded slowly as she registered what Riley was saying. Her expression shifted to sympathy, before she walked over to Riley and put a hand on her arm. “It’s 5:38. Can I suggest you end work for the day? Maybe have a girls’ night?”

Riley smiled. “Sounds great. How about we start with a glass of wine?”

Hana grinned. “That would be wonderful.”

“Great. I’ll get the bottle and glasses. Meet me in the sitting room. The one that doesn’t scream stuffy rich people.”

Riley fetched a bottle of Hana’s favorite wine and two glasses. She met Hana in the aforementioned room, grinning at how Hana had apparently managed to magic a charcuterie board into existence. She set down the glasses and poured a generous amount into each one. “Hana, have you ever heard the saying “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades”?

Hana frowned. “I don’t think so? What does it mean?”

“It means that coming close to your goal but not quite making it means that you don’t succeed. It’s as much of a failure, of falling short, as landing far away from the goal. Pitching horseshoes is the only game where being close actually counts; if you come close to the stake, you can win points.”

Hana nodded. “And I assume that a hand grenade that lands close to its target still does damage.”

“Exactly.” Riley picked up her glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

Hana picked up her glass and looked at Riley expectantly.

“To horseshoes and hand grenades.”


End file.
